An angry Jack
by espioc
Summary: Jack Pumpkinhead isn't himself and Scraps wants to get to the bottom of it.


**Alright, so this is my first Oz fic. And I want it to moderately work. I've read all the 14 original books as well as "Jack Pumpkinhead of Oz." and "The Runaway in Oz." and "The Royal Book of Oz." I have very little interest in Ruth Plumly Thompson's work although I'm sure it's good. And yes, I know the first and last books I mentioned are by her. I'm rambling, just enjoy the story.**

Due to the peaceful content life in Oz there's rarely a terrible day to be had. The days are normally filled with delightful conversation and activities fit for everyone in Oz. of course there are conflicts and people become bored like Scraps, the patchwork girl, who is not easily entertained for long periods of time.

Today in the Marvelous Land of Oz, though, things were strange. One of the softest hearted characters, Jack Pumpkinhead, was having nothing but a bad day, and the un-entertainable Scraps was not helping.

Scraps wondered the country side, doing cartwheels as she traveled across the dirt roads. She sang her rhyming songs and walked happily down the lane. Despite such excited movement and song Scraps found herself board as ever.

"What is there to do around these parts?" she asked herself. A moment later she came across five Grave stones all entitled with the same thing "Here Lays Jack Pumpkinhead."

"Oh!" cried Scraps "jack Pumpkinhead will surly have something fun for me to do!" she called, throwing her arms into the air and cartwheeling through the pumpkin field. She was halted in her merry trek when she rammed into something tall and spindly.

She landed entirely on Jack Pumpkinhead as he tended to his field. Jack struggled to climb out from under the giggling scraps.

"Scraps!" he called, not so happily.

"Good morning Jack!" Scraps called happily, spinning to a stand. Jack struggled to stand but eventually managed "Scraps! What are you doing here?" he asked, dusting off his raggedy vest being held together by safety pins and scraps of fabric. The raggedy blue vest lay over a white shirt; he wore regular red trousers, his shirts tucked lazily into them. Old work boots sat loosely on his wooden feet.

"My friend Jack Pumpkinhead!" called Scraps. She leaned in and inspected him closer.

"You look quite a mess…you look marvelous!"

"I do not." Said Jack, attempting to stuff his shirt further into his pants. "A murder of crows flew straight into my home yesterday and ransacked all of my attire."

"You sound severely intelligent, Jack, is there something wrong?"

"Not much that I can think of…other than the fact that my pumpkin crop has been depleting due to the strange weather conditions lately." He lowered his large pumpkin head, but lifted it quickly "Your foolish shenanigans aren't assisting in my troubles." He called angrily, pointing an accusing finger to the merry Patchwork Girl.

"Me?" questioned scraps "What have I done?"

"You've come cartwheeling into my garden when you have no business doing so." He crossed his arms. Scraps frowned "Well excuse me for trying to bring some entertainment to your boring life!" she screeched "All you do is work, Jack Pumpkinhead, and that's no fun."

Jack turned and flung his arms in the air "Well all you do is cause trouble! You can't go a second without ruining someone's work or breaking…something!"

"What of yours have I broken!?"

"Look there, where you're standing." Jack turned around and pointed to the area below her feet. A pile of freshly crushed pumpkin guts was spewed about. "You've crushed one of my pumpkins."

"Oh, Pumpkin, shmumpkin, you have hundreds more."

"Well I liked that one…Scraps, please leave my field."

"And why should I?" Scraps challenged, crossing her arms with a heavy "Humph.".

Despite the inability to move his face anyone could tell Jack was scowling at the girl "Because the first time I asked nicely and now I'll just tell you to get out!" he shot back fiercely, surprising Scraps. He stomped away, Scraps stood there a moment, shocked at the usually content man's behavior. Truthfully Jack had never been the happiest thing in the world. He had little thought to go on. Despite a lack of happiness he's always been extremely content and kind hearted, never has Scraps seen him act with such a harsh demeanor. She followed him to his pumpkin house and watched as he returned the tools he had been using and replaced them with a set of clippers and a large box labeled "Vegetables"

He searched through his fields and pulled out carrots, beets, squash and other fine vegetables. He examined them carefully before cutting them from their vines and placing them in the box.

"What are you doing?" asked Scraps "Collecting vegetables to bring to my father, what are you still doing here?"

"I am intrigued by this work you do, Jack, I've never done something like this." Jack stood up, carrying his box with him, he moved to the next section of the field "No you may not."

Scraps frowned "Why not?" she complained. Jack set down the box and leaned over to cut free the next batch of vegetables.

"Doesn't this take you long?" asked Scraps, leaning down to study what he was doing.

"It may take less time if I did not have a leach on my back."

"Hey!"

Jack ignored her insulted cries and moved about the crop as he usually did. He finished two rows then started away from his field and into the forest.

"Where are you going now?" asked Scraps.

"To my fathers to deliver her vegetables."

"Oh, we're going to see Ozma? Good, I think she should hear about your rude behavior."

"My rude behavior!" Jack raged stopping and looking back at Scraps who held her head high.

"That's right." She said. Again, through the stiff face Jack scowled

"Fine! Tell her, see if I care. I have more important things to do than worry about a petty scolding from Ozma."

They reached the city with little daylight to spare Jack waved good bye and headed back to his field. He was overly relieved when Scraps decided to stay at the castle and tell Ozma about what had happened earlier that day.

"He lashed out at you?" questioned Ozma, doubting that all Scraps said was completely accurate "But he wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Well he certainly hurt me, Princess, that he did." Said Scraps, stomping her foot, outraged "He was hardheaded and at some points just plain mean."

"That doesn't sound like Jack much at all. Although, Scraps, I can understand why one would get aggravated towards you, you have caused much trouble in the past."

"That's not the point! He called me a leach, and unless a leach is as stunning as I, I don't believe he had the right to."

The girl ruler shrugged "We have the right to our opinions…although, it does seem unusual…" she sat with thought for a moment before sitting up straight. "I will talk to him."

"Talk to who?" asked a voice from the door. The Tin woodman, entered with the Scarecrow close behind.

"Jack Pumpkinhead." Called Scraps greeting her much kinder friends happily.

"Oh?" said The Tin woodman quizzically "What seems to be the matter?"

Scraps frowned "He was in a very bad mood this evening."

The Scarecrow stepped up "May I remind you, my fine Scraps, that many people have bad evenings."

"I know that! but he was so rude to me."

Both men thought for a moment "Rude?" inquired the Tin Woodman "How so? What did you do?"

"Almost nothing…I may have rammed into him and crushed one of his oh so precious pumpkins but it was hardly anything."

"Maybe that's why he's upset…although…" the Tin Woodman trailed off in thought.

"Although what!" demanded Scraps, getting on close on the Tin man.

"I once crushed one of his pumpkins with my ax and he told me that it was no matter…how did he respond to you?"

"He told me I was messing everything up, and that I am always in the way."

Scarecrow frowned "No why would he say something like that?"

"I haven't the slightest idea!

There I was prancing along

Singing my merry rhyming song

When down I fell onto his wooden body

Then suddenly everything was groggy."

She sang the last line not so happy. She wasn't in the mood.

"Oh Scraps." Said Scarecrow stepping closer to her "Maybe he was just having a bad day."

"Who was having a bad day?" asked another voice from the door. Everyone turned to see the Woggle-bug enter the room looking as formal as ever. He wore his usual attire, a dark jacket over a white dress shirt as well as I formal tie. In one arm he holds a cane in the other he holds his hat. He approaches the group "Now who's having a bad day?" he asked again.

"Jack Pumpkinhead." Answered Scarecrow.

"That old fool? What's happened to him?" asked The Woggle bug.

Everybody shrugged "We don't know what the matter is." Said The Tin Woodman.

"But according to Scraps he isn't himself." Says Ozma, stepping down from her seat "But don't worry yourself with the matter. What are you doing here, Mr. TE?"

"I've come to deliver some books for Dorothy, she asked that I deliver them yesterday but I was too busy with my student to bother with them. Do you know where she is by any chance?"

"She could be playing in the court yard."

"Thank you."

The Woggle-Bug headed through the marvelous emerald castle and so found himself in the court yard where Dorothy sat with the Hungry Tiger and Cowardly Lion.

"Ah, Dorothy." Greeted the Woggle-Bug. Dorothy looked up at the magnified bug "Oh, good evening Woggle-Bug." Greeted the young princess happily "what brings you here?"

"I've come to deliver these." He handed her a short pile of books "Straight from the school's library." The Woggle- Bug raised his head with pride with the mention of his collage "I have selected these brilliant title based upon what other pieces of literature I have seen you peruse."

"Oh, well thank you very much. Are you going to Ozma's big banquet tomorrow, everyone'll be there, from Frogman to Glinda."

"Why I wouldn't miss such an exuberant occasion with my closest companions." He smiled, waved good bye to the young girl and turned away. As soon as he was turned around he ran straight into a tall figure. He looked up to see Jack Pumpkinhead standing above him, his broad smiling face clear as ever.

"Ah, Jack Pumpkinhead." The Woggle-Bug greeted happily with a smile. Jack said nothing. He looked down at their feet. The Woggle-Bug fallowed his gaze and found a pumpkin pie flipped upside down and splattered about the brick.

"Oh." Said the Woggle-Bug, realizing what he'd just done "No matter, right? You can just make another; you have plenty of pumpkins to spare, eh Jack? It's almost as though your whole life is made of them." He laughed at the subtle joke, but soon realized that Jack was not amused and quit his laughing.

"Mr. Woggle-Bug." Started Jack quietly "Have you ever made a Pumpkin pie from scratch?"

"…Uh, I can't say I have."

"I did not think so…I have to find the pumpkin, inspect it, pick it, cut it open, clean it, clear out its insides, cut it up, boil or steam it, take off the skin, pure it by hand for a few hours to make sure it's completely puréed, then I add the rest of the ingredients. After that a make the crust, carefully place the crust in the pie crust into the sheet without breaking it, then put the pie in the oven and let it cool for five hours in a cooler…as soon as you have done exactly that as perfectly as I can you may say it is no matter." He picked up the ruined pie "I was here to deliver this fine creation to my father so she may taste it and decide whether or not I should cater the deserts for the banquet tomorrow." He looked at his ruined pie, squished and covered with dirt. "Luckily I've brought a tart as well."

The Woggle-Bug giggled a moment "I feel quite bad for you, my boy, maybe next time you will watch where you are going."

Jack was outraged "Watch where I'm going!? You ran into me!"

"Now, now, Jack, do not say things that simply aren't true."

Jacks orange pumpkin head seemed to turn red with anger "I was walking this way." He pointed to the right of the Woggle-Bug "I was not ever facing you when you turned to leave. I understand it was an accident but it is unfair of you to accuse me of running into you when the simple truth is that you ran into me causing me to drop my pie."

"Well, Jack, you must remember, you are quite clumsy, even if you hadn't run into me I assume that you would have dropped your pie anyways due to your lack of ability to hold it in the first place."

Dorothy, Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger couldn't quite understand the argument The Woggle- Bug was making. He _had _run onto Jack, and there's no evidence of Jack being so clumsy that he couldn't hold onto the simplest thing. What Jack did next sent all three onlookers back with shock.

Pumpkin paste spewed out of the tin as the already ruined pie was slammed into the Woggle-Bugs face.

"Maybe you can hold onto it better than I." he said quietly, vexation clear in his voice. With that Jack stomped away, out of the beautiful courtyard.

* * *

Alright, so I know Scraps song was lame and the woggle bug is most likely out of character. Jack is supposed to be out of character. Truthfully, I don't like the woggle bug that much, probably because I love Jack so much and to me the woggle bug (and many other characters) sort of treat him…they're not exactly mean, they just, at some points in the story's, seem to treat Jack condescendingly, and true, he's not the smartest guy in the world, but still. Alright, R and R if you don't mind. J


End file.
